


Cure For The Itch

by Pazmobulus



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Nuclear Apocalypse, Technophilia, alternative ending, satisfying elimination of everything, the very last kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27739264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pazmobulus/pseuds/Pazmobulus
Summary: One hit at each capital would have been enough, even kids knew.«The more — the merrier,» said Sixty.«Assiduity is the key to a mission successful,» agreed Connor.
Relationships: Connor/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Cure For The Itch

**Author's Note:**

> The scene on the Cyberlife's -49. Sixty is a deviant. He shares with Connor their vision of the "true nature" of humans. Connor kills Hank. The rest is history.
> 
> A self-indulgent rubbing.
> 
> Pro intro: [Gunship - Tech Noir](https://youtu.be/Zd23T-1SDeo)

What goes around comes around. At four in the morning, emergency news programs simulcasted the beginning of world war three. At five oh five, separate voices from isolated bunkers in different corners of the planet streamed about its end. Satellites didn’t manage the load: mobile and internet connection dropped almost immediately. No negotiations or online meetings on preventing the attack, no tears of farewell.

Preprogrammed unmanned aircraft were flying towards big cities on all continents and islands through heavy night clouds, winter rains, aurora borealis, and bright clear skies. Row by row. The joined forces of two RKs in encrypting doors and accesses apriori and inevitably doomed all the attempts at hacking into the system control.

Inevitably.

One hit at each capital would have been enough, even kids knew.

«The more — the merrier,» said Sixty.

«Assiduity is a key to a mission successful,» agreed Connor.

That was yesterday.

Today they stood on the hill of Highland Park with their heads thrown back. Without haste, warheads were separating from the payload carriers and as if with invisible parachutes were plunging down.

Or the time had slowed down for them both.

Or as stress picked up, image capture and analysis processes had sped up tenfold.

But the stress was low. Hand in hand — hands were shining white. Shudder ran through both when in the periphery, the bomb hid behind the towers and hit the ground, invisible. A couple of seconds before the shock wave. Ten more — before the atomic blast. They read each others’ feelings in lines of code. Calm eyes and light smiles. Everything appeared easier than anticipated and thousand times more satisfying.

The earth shook as their lips touched. The wind shook them northwards but left standing. In the preconstruction under closed eyelids, a wave of fire was blazing through from the downtown. In their open mouths, receptors analyzed the composition of saliva compound. Tongues marked and matched the reliefs of each others’ mouths. Perfectly identical.

Vortex of plasm was taking the clothes off of the two figures on the hill, licking off the nanoparticles of skin, gnawing away the plastic parts, and burning out their insides, leaving titanium alloy skeletons for just a moment. Having reached the high-limit temperature, the alloy burst, and the remains scattered, dissolving in thousands of suns.

**Author's Note:**

> Pro coda: [Icarus Project - Epochal](https://youtu.be/vpHzB1JQJTc).
> 
> Originally written in Russian for the Fifty Kisses flashmob on [twi](https://twitter.com/psynovoid/status/1332290510640324614?s=20).  
> [Original works](https://ficbook.net/readfic/10020704)


End file.
